


My Freedom is Burning

by hope_s



Series: Beautiful Trauma [11]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Bisexuality, Debbie Pov, Debbie becoming the bisexual queen we all deserve, Early Mornings, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Heist Wives, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Post-California, Post-Canon, Smut, Songfic, Talking, Trials, they're engaged!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_s/pseuds/hope_s
Summary: He was never the most important part of Debbie's plan, but still, waiting for the trial, for the final piece to fall into place, it makes the back of her mind prickle with unease.Yet beside her, Lou is there. Lou is there with a ring on her finger that Debbie gave her. Lou is there to listen and to talk when memories of Claude rise up to plague her.And Debbie couldn't be prouder that this is where she ended up...





	My Freedom is Burning

**Author's Note:**

> P!nk: Beautiful Trauma  
(2017)  
Track 12 - Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken
> 
> ...
> 
> You beat me, betray me  
You're losing, we're winning  
My spirit above me  
You cannot deny me  
My freedom is burning  
This broken world keeps turning  
I'll never surrender  
There's nothing, but a victory
> 
> There's not enough rope to tie me down  
There's not enough tape to shut this mouth  
The stones you throw can make me bleed  
But I won't stop until we're free  
Wild hearts can't be broken  
Wild hearts can't be broken  
This wild heart can't be broken
> 
> ...
> 
> (Autumn 2018)

Debbie awoke suddenly and completely to the deep darkness of early morning. The moon had set, and the clouds hung low over the bay outside, blocking the stars and dimming the lights of the city. Lou breathed slowly and deeply beside her, sprawled on her stomach as she often was, with an arm draped protectively over Debbie’s midriff. Debbie wasn’t usually awake at this hour. Normally, she was someone who awoke around sunrise no matter what time it was. On the rare occasions that she stirred before dawn, Debbie savored the quiet and the waiting. This was an hour for poets and plots and _thinking_ – perfect for her (except for the poetry part – she had never been any good at writing).

“Debs?” Lou grunted almost inaudibly into her pillow.

Debbie swiveled her head towards her in surprise. Lou could usually sleep through anything. “Baby?” Debbie murmured. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really.” Lou turned onto her side to face Debbie and shuffled closer to her. The room was chilly, and Lou ran cold. Debbie smiled softly, though she knew the room was too dim for Lou to see her face, and moved her own warmth towards her. “You’re just thinking very loudly, honey,” Lou said, once her head was tucked securely under Debbie’s chin.

Debbie pressed her lips to the closest part of Lou’s head and hummed softly. “Usually, I could play the entirety of _Des Nibelungen _on full volume, and you wouldn’t even budge.”

“Is that an opera thing?”

Debbie sighed in mock exasperation. “Of course, it is. And it’s very _long_ and very _loud_.” She brushed her lips once more against Lou’s head and stroked her hair. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked after a few moments.

Lou twitched slightly, and Debbie took the movement for a shrug. “I guess,” Lou replied. “Waiting for Becker’s trial date is starting to get to me. I don’t know how you’re so damn calm about it.”

Debbie’s stomach clenched unpleasantly. She didn’t _feel _calm about it; though Lou had a point. She certainly hadn’t been showing many outward signs of anxiety. “I’m definitely getting tired of waiting,” she said truthfully. 

Lou yawned and nestled further into Debbie’s warmth. “How sure are you?” she asked, voice muffled against Debbie’s skin.

“Ninety-five/five,” Debbie answered at once.

“I like those odds,” Lou said through a smile that Debbie could feel on her bare skin.

Debbie swallowed hard around the last pebble of fear in her throat. That five-percent chance was something she planned for, just in case. Still, the idea of it filled her with dread. If he was found innocent, he would be a threat to her. In turn, that meant he would be a threat to Lou, and that thought turned Debbie’s stomach. “Everyone still has escape routes, baby,” Debbie said, reassuring herself as much as Lou, “and we have our money either way.”

“And each other,” Lou added through another yawn.

Debbie groaned at Lou’s addition. “Cheesy,” she said, “but yes,” she added, softening, “we do. I just…” She paused and sighed. “I want to move on, have our wedding, have a _life_…” She trailed off.

“Yeah, Debs,” Lou said softly, clutching onto her. “Me too.”

Debbie fell silent, thinking of all the beautiful things she could say right now, in this moment. Lou deserved to hear those things, but it took a lot for Debbie to be able to speak them. It was comforting, though, to know she had a whole lifetime ahead of her in which to try. She rocked Lou back and forth slightly, thinking of the overture to _Das Rheingold. _

“Are you going to go back to sleep?” Lou asked after a few minutes, tilting her head slightly to look up at Debbie.

“No,” Debbie replied, “you?”

“No,” Lou murmured, planting an open-mouthed kiss in the hollow of Debbie’s throat. She shifted to lean over Debbie and continued a trail of kisses along her collarbone up to her left shoulder, swirling her tongue over a mark she had made a few days ago at the base of her neck.

Debbie sighed contentedly. “Got an idea of how to pass the time?” she asked innocently.

“Several,” Lou said, sliding her hands over Debbie’s thighs under the sheets. She nipped at Debbie’s jaw. 

“You’re insatiable.”

Lou scoffed as she dipped her head towards Debbie’s right nipple. “You’re one to talk. I bet you’re already soaking the sheets.”

“_Shit_, Lou,” Debbie said through a moan, unable to mount any defense against the teasing as Lou’s teeth grazed her breast and her tongue flicked insistently.

Lou slid a hand up Debbie’s thigh and rubbed firmly over her arousal. “See?” Lou commented smugly as Debbie moaned. “I was right. Already soaked.”

Debbie moved her hand to the back of Lou’s head as she traveled down her body, pushing the sheets out of the way as she went. The chilly air made goosebumps rise on her skin, but the heat between her legs made up for it a thousand times over. The darkness made it impossible to predict Lou’s movements, and Debbie succumbed completely to the sensation of Lou’s mouth on her skin. She kept one hand loosely threaded in Lou’s hair and one hand fisting the sheets as her body responded with involuntary twitches and squirms that made Lou hum with pleasure. Just as Debbie was beginning to unravel, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Lou removed her mouth from Debbie’s skin and reached over to grasp at the device, leaving Debbie to catch her breath as she peered at the screen. Debbie saw concern in her features in the illumination from the phone, and her pulse – already heightened by Lou’s touch – raced even faster.

“Nine Ball,” Lou muttered. She wiped the back of her hand across her chin. 

Debbie knit her brow and shifted to sit up against the pillows. “What?”

Lou gave her a wide-eyed look that said _we’ll see_, swiped her thumb across the phone screen to answer the call, and put the phone on speaker on the mattress between them. “What’s up, Baller?” Lou asked immediately. Debbie could hear the concern in her tone.

“You answerin’ Debbie’s phone now, Lou?”

“I’m here, too,” Debbie said quickly, evening her tone despite the throbbing between her legs and her slightly sweaty palms. She took several very quiet deep breaths to steady herself. 

“Sorry if I woke you, but—”

“We were already awake,” Debbie said before she could stop herself. Lou raised her eyebrows and winked. Debbie mentally kicked herself. “What’s going on?” she asked, trying to gloss over the moment.

“It’s Becker,” Nine Ball replied bluntly. “There’s nothin’ public yet, but I re-bugged NYPD, the FBI buildin’, the courthouse – everythin’ – a few weeks ago. His trial starts Monday. They’re announcin’ lawyers, callin’ a jury…all that shit. I just…” Nine Ball paused, and her tone grew warmer. “I just knew you’d want to know first is all. Sorry if I…” She cleared her throat once. “…_interrupted_ anythi—”

“Nope,” Debbie said firmly, “nothing to interrupt.”

“Not at all,” Lou said at exactly the same moment, poorly concealed laughter coloring her tone, “we just happened to be…awake.”

Nine Ball huffed a laugh. “It’s four-thirty in the _fuckin’ _mornin’. Y’all have no chill, I swear to God.”

“We’re making up for lost time,” Lou said with a smirk, eyes twinkling in the blue-ish light of the phone. 

“_Lou_.” Debbie glared at her.

“Yeah, I should hope so,” Nine Ball agreed, snickering.

Debbie lunged for the phone. “_Okay_, enough. Thanks, _Leslie_. Bye.” She hung up the phone and tossed it at Lou who failed to catch it in the dark. Lou fell back onto the blankets giggling uncontrollably. Debbie groaned.

Eventually Lou straightened up, wiping her eyes, and the bed creaked as she knelt between Debbie’s thighs once more. “Do you want me to keep going?” she asked, tapping her fingers over the inside of Debbie’s knee. Debbie thought about it, but her mind was reeling from the news Nine Ball had brought. She reached out for Lou and pulled her down onto her chest. Lou made a quiet noise of surprise at the gesture, but a moment later she had buried her face in Debbie’s neck as though it always belonged there.

“Not right now,” Debbie said softly, passing her hands over Lou’s back. “Can we…” She sighed. It was hard to ask for what she really wanted. She could ask for sex. Sure, she blushed and stammered sometimes when she did, but that was part of the fun. This was something else – something rarer and more intimate. Debbie cleared her throat and tried again. “Can we…talk?” 

Lou clung to Debbie’s torso and squeezed reassuringly. “Yeah, _yeah_, of course, Debs. I…I tell you what, let’s go downstairs and make some tea and then come right back up here and we’ll talk, okay?”

“I’d like that, baby,” Debbie said quietly, “I…I love you.” She never said it enough, and when she did it never seemed to encompass even a fraction of what she felt.

“I love you, too, honey,” Lou replied softly. Her voice sounded a little constricted, as it often did after Debbie got up the nerve to actually say the words. She planted a lingering kiss on Debbie’s lips and then pushed herself into a kneeling position once more, groping for the light switch on her side of the bed.

Downstairs, Lou made tea and Debbie stared into space. She had mostly avoided thinking about Claude since the Met Heist. She hadn’t wondered about where he was spending the holding period before his trial; she hadn’t cared. Instead, she had thought about the liquidation of the crown jewels and about all the possible ways they could get caught. She had closed every loophole and tied every loose end. Debbie had listened when Lou told her she loved her for the very first time back in July, and then she had said it back, much to her own surprise. Then she, _she_ – Debbie Ocean, criminal master mind, had _proposed_, and now they both wore sparkling rings: opals for Lou, sapphires for her. Debbie was _happy_ – happier than she had been in her entire life.

Claude had turned into a vague and more-or-less defeated shadow – unthreatening, insubstantial. The take had been far more important than her revenge, and in some ways, that made it all the sweeter. The ruining of his life was a mere byproduct of her plot, something that wasn’t even worth her full attention. His imprisonment was almost guaranteed. Debbie knew which lawyers would most likely argue each side of the case. She knew which judge would probably oversee the proceedings. She had contingencies on contingencies on contingencies for if something was just a hair out of place. He was almost certainly screwed. There had been other aspects of the Met Job that were much riskier than the Claude Becker portion – the Cartier security guards, Yen hanging from the ceiling. It didn’t make any _logical _sense for her to be this nervous, yet here she was, tugging at her robe with slightly shaking hands to pull it tighter as she shivered. Claude just had a way of _getting _to her, of reminding her of a time that she would very much like to forget, of bringing out the very worst in her.

Lou let Debbie think, stayed quiet until they were back upstairs with warm cups of tea and a few extra blankets piled over them. Even in silence, Debbie found Lou’s presence to be a grounding comfort. She supposed that's what people referred to when they talked about soulmates and true love. The feeling of freedom and wholeness seemed new every single day she woke up next to Lou. _Oh_, she loved her, and Debbie knew that if she couldn’t share her discomfort with Lou, she wouldn’t be able to share it with anyone. She blew on her tea, took a few sips, and sat back against the pillows with a sigh. Lou looked calmly at her and waited.

Finally, Debbie spoke. “I’m not ready to think about how he hurt me – the things he said, what_ I_ was like when I was with him, I…can’t tackle that yet.”

“You don’t have to,” Lou said, interlacing the fingers of their free hands, warm from the mugs. Debbie quirked a small smile at her, reassured.

“He…he called me a dyke, Lou. More than once.” Debbie looked blankly across the room as she spoke, eyes darting over the dresser and the mirror and the door to the bathroom – memorizing instead of feeling. “And I still stayed with him. When I think about that, I just…I can’t…” Debbie grasped for words and ended up taking a gulp of tea instead. It was still a little too hot, and it burned its way down her throat like a brand. She winced.

Lou exhaled slowly, processing Debbie’s words. She reached over and placed her mug on her bedside table before sliding both arms around Debbie’s waist. Her head came to rest on Debbie’s shoulder, and Debbie melted into the embrace. “Just because his trial is happening, doesn’t mean you have to think about it if you’re not ready, Debs,” Lou said once she was completely wrapped around her.

Debbie nodded and sipped her tea. “I know…and one day, maybe I _will _process it. Somehow. Right now, though…” Debbie squeezed her eyes shut. There was something about this darkest hour of the night that made her brain feel empty and changeable – not like its usual precise and calculating manner. It was both mentally stimulating and uncomfortable. “Right now, I need _you_ to know that I’m not the person I was back then. I…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Debs,” Lou said quietly.

Debbie scoffed. “Yeah, it…it really was. I _chose _to stay with him…”

“Debbie, you weren’t in a good place.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not about excuses, Debbie. It’s about…about forgiving yourself. You don’t need me to do that for you. I don’t _need _to forgive you – there’s nothing to forgive.” Lou sat back against the pillows as she spoke and reached once more for her cup of tea. Debbie missed the feeling of her arms wrapped around her and was grateful when Lou slid her right arm around her shoulder.

Debbie blew on her tea. “I felt like an imposter,” she whispered.

“Do you see the irony in that?”

Debbie managed a half-smile, thinking of the countless disguises she had donned over the years. “Yes.” She took a sip of tea. “The problem was, I felt like I was conning myself, and maybe I was.” Lou stayed silent, mulling over Debbie’s words and waiting for her to explain. “For one thing, I wanted _you_ the whole time I was with him, and that felt like cheating. I didn’t _want_ to cheat on him, and I didn’t want to cheat on you—”

“Debbie, we never said what we were!” Lou said, sounding slightly exasperatedly. “I slept with other people, too. It’s…well, maybe we were both kidding ourselves, but—”

“I _know_,” Debbie assured her, laying a gentle hand on the outline of Lou’s thigh where it lay under the blankets. “This wasn’t just a one-night stand with…with Claude…” Debbie swallowed hard. Saying his name made her mouth taste like bile. “…but still, I don’t blame myself for feeling that way. It happened, and it was shit, _and _I’ve accepted it. But…”

“But…?” Lou prompted when Debbie stayed silent.

Debbie sighed and slipped her left hand under the sheets to touch Lou’s skin. She stroked her fingers back and forth above Lou’s knee – so warm and soft and alive. She took a deep breath. “_But_,” she continued finally, “I felt like an imposter for having feelings for you, for having feelings for women in general, I suppose, at the same time as…as _him_. He would call me a dyke, and I couldn’t even take that word and…and make it my own. I didn’t feel like I had a right to be hurt by it, didn’t feel like I had a right to identify with it.” Debbie paused and took a sip of tea. It was soothing on her dry and anxious throat. “I felt like I was conning myself, that I was a mark in a game that didn’t realize I was playing. I convinced myself that being with him should be easy. When it wasn’t, I felt like a failure. I convinced myself that I could get over _you_. When I didn’t, I _also _felt like a failure.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get over me, Jailbird,” Lou muttered.

Debbie turned her head sharply to look at her. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting: disappointment, perhaps, or disgust in Lou’s blue eyes. But she was greeted by softness and understanding. She felt her lips part slightly, letting her breath out in a tiny sigh of relief. “Me too,” she said finally, squeezing Lou’s thigh. 

“Debbie,” Lou said after a moment, and Debbie locked her eyes on Lou’s. “Debbie, it doesn’t matter to me. I mean, it matters to me that these memories hurt you, but it doesn’t matter to me that you couldn’t figure this out back then. It doesn’t even matter to me if it’s still hard now, as long as I can be there for you, as long as you’re my…my girl. As long as you’re my _wife_, honey.”

Debbie blinked at the word in surprise. Neither of them had used it yet. It made a tingling sensation spread from the base of her skull all the way out to her extremities. Her brain seemed to grind back into gear, as if Lou’s words were a jumpstart. “I…” She swallowed hard. “I’m glad this is where I ended up, Lou. I…_God_…” She laughed softly, eyes closed and forehead falling against Lou’s. “I was truly, _truly _stupid to try and stop loving what you are to me…” She traced a spiral on Lou’s thigh. “…what you _do_ to me…”

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m the best you’ve ever had?” Lou asked through an obvious smirk that Debbie could taste as their lips brushed.

“Oh, you are, baby,” Debbie murmured. “No competition.” She kissed Lou slowly, sucking on her lower lip until Lou moaned. Debbie smiled against her mouth and gasped as Lou’s ran along her upper lip. Debbie was breathless by the time they parted. 

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this,” Lou began. Her tone was surprisingly serious and slightly shy. “But you can call yourself a dyke if you want, Debs…if it helps. You can take it back, you know? You deserve it, if you want it.”

“Do I get a membership card or something? Maybe a pin?”

Lou snorted with laughter and flopped back into the pillows. “I thought we were being _serious_ this morning.”

“I ran out of emotions.”

“We could get Tammy to 3D-print us some dyke pins,” Lou suggested with a grin.

Debbie sipped her tea and smiled back, knowing it was a smile she reserved only for Lou.

“How about this,” Lou said after a moment, flipping onto her stomach and moving down the bed to rest her chin on Debbie’s hip.

“What?” Debbie asked, looking down at her affectionately and running her fingers through Lou’s hair. Lou was the only one who could do this, who could help her turn a dark mood into something positive and warm. 

“How about instead of a membership pin, you get to…find anyone you want attractive _and_ not feel guilty about it? And you get to watch Becker get thrown in prison? _And_ you get to marry me in five months and…” She checked the date on her watch. “…four days? _And_…” She ran a hand teasingly up the inside of Debbie’s leg. “…you get to _fuck _me? _And_…” Lou trailed off and looked up at the ceiling as if trying to remember something. “_And_ I’ve lost my train of thought,” she finished, burying her face in the crease of Debbie’s thigh.

Debbie laughed and continued to run her fingers through Lou’s hair. “Yeah, baby, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” Lou asked, tilting her head to look up at her once more. She trailed her hand tantalizingly close to the apex of Debbie’s thighs and then continued upwards over her stomach.

“Yes,” Debbie replied, lifting Lou’s wandering hand to her mouth and planting numerous kisses over her knuckles. “_Yes_.”

Lou moved quickly to kneel before her once more. She gently pried Debbie’s mug of tea from her fingers and placed it on the bedside table. Debbie pushed the blankets out of the way, parted her legs, and welcomed Lou between them. Lou kissed her slowly once more – starting with a barely-perceptible brush of her lips to Debbie’s, then gradually quickening until she was licking into Debbie’s mouth. Her hands passed over Debbie’s torso, and her right hand slid lower between Debbie’s legs. Lou’s fingers were gentle, tickling and stroking over her aroused skin until she was swollen and desperate for more.

“Fuck me,” Debbie murmured urgently, breaking their kiss. She slid her shoulders further into the pillows, so she was lying half-reclined against them, looking up at Lou poised above her. Lou hummed her approval and swung her left leg over Debbie’s right to straddle her thigh. With gentle hands, Lou untied Debbie’s robe and pushed the fabric away from her breasts. Heat throbbed between Debbie’s legs. “Please,” she whispered as Lou moved her fingers to slide back and forth through Debbie’s wetness once more.

“I’m yours,” Lou murmured, bending to nestle her lips next to Debbie’s ear. She pushed two fingers into Debbie as she dragged her lips back to Debbie’s mouth. Debbie welcomed her, hands tugging at Lou’s hair and fingers digging into Lou’s shoulder. Lou set a fast rhythm, and Debbie’s breaths came in whining gasps that Lou swallowed hungrily. Unexpected emotion built once more in Debbie’s chest – a culmination of her triumph against Claude and her pride that she was Lou’s and Lou was hers. Somehow, deciding to spend forever with Lou seemed like just as good of a revenge on Claude as framing him for insurance fraud. Opening herself to Lou, melting under and around Lou’s hands, breathing around her heated kisses – Debbie loved this, loved her, loved who they were together, loved who she was with Lou. Lou maintained a steady pace inside her, and soon tingling warmth flowed through Debbie in wave after wave as she pulsed around Lou’s fingers and moaned into Lou’s mouth. Lou was there, holding her through the aftershocks until Debbie relaxed into the pillows and blinked her eyes open.

“I’m so proud to be with you,” Debbie whispered as soon as she had breath, knowing she would lose her nerve if she waited. “So proud,” she repeated against Lou’s lips, Lou’s jaw, the palm of Lou’s hand that rose to cup Debbie’s cheek. “So proud.”

**

There had been one, single version of Debbie’s plan in which Claude was framed, not only for insurance fraud and the theft of the Toussaint, but also for grand theft of the Crown Jewels from the Met’s costume exhibit. Back in September – somewhat to Debbie’s surprise, though she had known there would be many factors outside her control – a series of serendipitous coincidences had led to the arrest of an obscure lapidary, who had spent just a little bit too much alone time with the gems before they were shipped to New York. Debbie suspected that the man had intended to pull a similar switch to the one they accomplished and had gotten cold feet at the last moment. It was a shame, really, but it couldn't be helped. The evidence was overwhelming: he had a 3D-printer and copies of the gems, he had a hacker who had disabled the cameras in the studio where the jewels were being held, and he had a motive – several million dollars in debt from online gambling. Though the circumstances prevented Claude from being charged with grand theft, the fact was – as Lou had reminded Debbie on many occasions – that connecting Claude and – by extension – the Toussaint heist to the disappearance of the Crown Jewels was an enormous risk that would certainly herald, once again, the unwelcome presence of John Frazier breathing down Debbie’s neck. It was better for the authorities to see the two crimes as completely unrelated.

A week after Nine Ball’s early-morning warning, Debbie and Lou stood together in the middle of the loft, watching a private broadcast of the final hours of Becker’s trial thanks to a live feed Nine Ball had secured. The loft was empty but for the two of them. Debbie had promised the team that they could come over tomorrow and celebrate, but tonight was for her and Lou alone. This was about far more than vengeance for Debbie’s five years, eight months, and twelve days in prison. This was about Debbie being free at last from the feeling of being connected to him at all. Once he was behind bars, there would no longer be a score to settle, and Debbie would – she hoped – be able to sever herself from the words he had said and the things she had felt (for him, for herself) when she was with him. This was a deeply personal moment, and only Lou could be part of that level of intimacy.

Debbie had felt herself drawing inward as the trial progressed. She knew how it was all supposed to go, and for the most part – in all the _important _ways – everything was going according to her plan. Still, there was a part of her that was anxious, a part of her that couldn’t quite believe she would succeed. Lou seemed to understand. She stood close to Debbie with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Every so often, she squeezed Debbie tightly even as her own fingers twitched nervously. Debbie was still as a statue except for when she raised her cup of tea to her lips.

The jury had been deliberating for hours now, but they were expected back at any moment. Debbie felt her heart pounding in her throat as she stared at the pixelated screen showing the mostly-empty court room. Claude had been removed to a cell during the deliberation, and Debbie was grateful that she couldn’t see him. Moving for the first time in hours, Debbie took a few steps backwards and sank onto the couch. Lou seemed momentarily surprised by her sudden movement, but she followed and sat down next to Debbie.

“Debs?” Lou murmured quietly, curling a long strand of Debbie’s hair around her finger before tucking it behind her ear.

It took Debbie almost a full minute to respond, but eventually she reluctantly dragged her eyes away from the screen and looked at Lou. The moment her eyes found Lou’s, the world seemed to come into sharper focus, and Debbie took a deep breath.

“Still with me?” Lou asked with a smile. 

Debbie smiled back. “Always.” She leaned forward and kissed Lou softly, tasting her mint gum and the tea she had drunk earlier. Lou yearned her body towards Debbie’s, pressing into her. Debbie leaned towards her in turn, moving with her and fisting both hands in the soft fabric of Lou’s shirt. Time stood still, and her mind was full of nothing but Lou. Debbie had no idea how long it was before a rustling noise from the live-feed drew her attention back to the trial. The jury was filing in, and there was Claude, being led forward by guards. She could see the profile of his face. He was smirking, and it reminded her of the look she had worn during her own trial. She remembered the fear she had pushed down and hidden under layers of practiced impassivity. Debbie knew – both because she knew Claude and because she had been in his shoes – that he was scared, too. She clenched her jaw and nodded once to herself. Everything was falling into place.

As the courtroom prepared for the final minutes of the trial, Debbie dropped her eyes from Claude’s profile and turned back to Lou, whose eyes were fixed on Debbie rather than on the screen. “This is it, baby,” Debbie murmured, noting a slight tremor in her voice.

“Yeah,” Lou said calmly, “it is. You okay?”

“As long as you stay right here,” Debbie replied matter-of-factly as she turned back to the screen. 

“I’m right here, honey,” Lou whispered, kissing Debbie’s temple and wrapping both arms around her shoulders. “Right here.”

**

The decision was unanimous: guilty on all charges. Guilty. _Guilty. _

Debbie didn’t even listen to the judge’s sentence recommendation. She turned to Lou, who was beaming at her almost as brightly as she had on the first day they both wore their engagement rings. Debbie felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs in a stuttering half-laughed sigh, and then she was kissing Lou with abandon, pushing her back onto the couch. Lou gasped and then laughed against Debbie’s mouth. Debbie’s hands – rigid and still for hours during the trial – were suddenly unstoppable, roaming over Lou’s body, tugging at both of their clothes until they were lying skin to skin. Lou’s hands passed over Debbie’s body sending fire through her veins, and Debbie relished every shiver and twitch she drew from Lou’s muscles.

“You won, Jailbird,” Lou murmured breathlessly in a moment of tenderness, cupping Debbie’s jaw. “You’re free.”

Debbie felt tears prick in her eyes as she searched the happiness in Lou’s face. “_We _won, baby,” she said softly, trailing her fingers up and down Lou’s side. “We won.” 

**Author's Note:**

> OH LOOK they're suddenly getting married! If you want the details on how that all went down, check out my other works listed below:
> 
> "Diamonds, Rust, and Opals" (What happened right after California and how Debbie proposed):
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453884/chapters/43719392
> 
> "Sonata for Silence and Two Pairs of Stilettos" (Lou's story, including some post-canon moments (see the last two chapters) that occur around the events in this work):
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697447/chapters/44343619
> 
> To add some fun facts/human interest to the mix: I am *also* suddenly getting married. So that's a thing. It's also a secret (for now), soooooooo if you know me in real life, uh, surprise? I guess? (I don't think any of you do.)
> 
> ***
> 
> Here's the song with all the lyrics: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlr6To4oeCg
> 
> ***
> 
> We're in the home stretch, folks, and it's all fluffy gay shit from here on out! Thank you for coming on this journey so far; I hope you enjoy this one and the two that are yet to come. Post-canon Loubbie is really my favorite thing to write. 
> 
> I'm a sucker for fics with Debbie processing her sexuality. That said, I feel like it's easy to forget that she's a lot older than, say, a millennial, and therefore might process her sexuality a bit differently than we do. Anyway, that's the headspace where this was born. 
> 
> ***
> 
> SERIES NOTE:
> 
> There will be 13 fics in this series, so please please subscribe to/bookmark the series in addition to the individual fics. I'm posting the stories chronologically as they fall in Debbie and Lou's timeline, rather than in the track order from the album. New ones will be posted every THURSDAY from here on out (I have a new job, but I'm also still at my old job for another three weeks. Life is WILD right now). There are pre-canon, film timeline, and post-canon works in this series, and it all fits with my Loubbie headcanon found in my other [non-AU] works. I can ONE HUNDRED PERCENT PROMISE that the series will end happily. 
> 
> ***
> 
> Thank you to my fiancée, go_get_your_top_hat, for beta-ing this series! She's the bestest. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Kudos and comments warm my soul and inspire me to keep writing! I *do* have other stuff in the works for after this series is over. ;)


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